


three's company

by sevensevan



Series: pride month 2018 [21]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 20:26:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevensevan/pseuds/sevensevan
Summary: After the war, Steve finds a way to make all his pieces fit together.





	three's company

**Author's Note:**

> a note on the rating: while this is by no means an explicit fic, it’s more overtly sexual at certain points than anything else i’ve written. i’ve read racier fics with t ratings but idk, i’m just trying to be safe. anyways. no smut or anything, yall know i don’t write that. enjoy the fic.

“We can’t do this forever, you know,” Bucky says into the darkness of the hotel room. Steve wonders briefly if he can get away with saying nothing at all, with pretending to sleep, but Bucky rolls over and his eyes are practically glowing in the darkness as he looks at Steve, and Steve gives up on the illusion before he even tries it.

“I know,” Steve says, his voice empty. Of course they can’t keep this up. He knows it. They both know it. That doesn’t mean Bucky has to _say_ it.

“We’re gonna get caught someday,” Bucky continues. Steve looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes, not bothering to hide the pain that fills his face.

“What’re they gonna do?” Steve asks bitterly. “Throw Captain fucking America in prison for sodomy?”

“Throw Steve Rogers in prison for sodomy,” Bucky says, a sort of biting anger in his tone, cynical and harsh. “And do their damnedest to make the world forget _Captain fucking America_ ever existed.”

“Wouldn’t mind the second bit,” Steve mumbles. He’s tired. He’s so thoroughly _tired_ of this—of playing best friends (practically brothers, the world calls them; as if there’s anything remotely _brotherly_ about their love) in the daylight and meeting in shady hotel rooms at night, of keeping deadly silent when they fuck, of leaving marks only where no one else can see them, of sneaking out before dawn and driving home alone to different parts of the city. He can’t shake the feeling that if he wasn’t _Captain fucking America_ , none of this would be such a big deal. Oh, thoroughly illegal and highly dangerous, absolutely, but not like _this_. Not this carefully balanced, hellish game of pretend.

“Yeah, you would,” Bucky says with a snort. “You can’t lie to me. You couldn’t put down the shield if it killed you.” Despite himself, Steve smiles.

“You’re probably right,” he admits readily, because as much as he hates being who he is sometimes, he’s made a difference. He’s saved lives. He stopped Hydra. Captain America isn’t about _him_ , as much as the media seems to disagree. It’s about the people who are saved.

Steve rolls onto his side, meeting Bucky’s gaze in the darkness of the room. It’s nearing four in the morning. They’ll have to leave soon. Bucky meets his eyes unwaveringly, and they stare at each other in a way that would make Steve uncomfortable with anyone else (with the exception of Peggy, of course), but instead feels…intimate, really.

Bucky is smirking at him.

“I love you,” Steve says suddenly, and Bucky’s smile fades.

“You can’t say that,” he mutters. His gaze slips away, focusing on the wall over Steve’s shoulder. “You can’t…don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Steve says. “Gotta say it before it’s over. Like you said, we can’t do this forever.”

“That’s why you can’t say it,” Bucky says roughly, flopping onto his back. He doesn’t look at Steve. “Because it’s gonna be over someday, and then what the hell am I supposed to do, knowing that?” Steve leans over, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s shoulder, only inches away from where Bucky’s arm ends in a stump.

“Remember it,” he says quietly. Bucky doesn’t answer. They lie like that for some unmeasurable span of time, before Bucky shifts, looking towards the curtained window, where the predawn light is beginning to creep in around the edges. “We should go,” he says, looking back at Steve. “You first?” Steve nods. He always leaves first.

Steve stands, slipping out of bed and retrieving his shorts. He dresses quickly, efficiently. He used to be terrible with buttons, but the war had gotten him used to dressing in under a minute. He leans over the bed after buttoning his shirt, kissing Bucky one more time before he turns and walks out the door.

The drive home is quiet, unbearably so. He doesn’t turn the radio on. As uncomfortable as the silence is, it would feel…disrespectful, almost, to break it.

The drive takes nearly an hour. By the time he parks the car and unlocks the door of the tenement he shares with Peggy, Peggy is already awake, sitting at the table with a cup of tea.

“Good morning,” she says as Steve walks into the dining room, setting down her newspaper.

“Morning,” Steve says, interrupting himself with a yawn. Peggy smiles fondly at him. She isn’t wearing makeup yet, and he takes the opportunity to lean down for a kiss before he has to risk lipstick marks. Peggy hums in satisfaction when he pulls away.

“How is James?” she asks as Steve divests himself of his coat. He hangs it up and sighs heavily, considering how to answer the question.

“Unhappy,” he says eventually.

“More than usual?” Peggy asks. Steve laughs a bit, but it’s weak, tired.

“Yeah,” he says. Peggy doesn’t pry, but she doesn’t exactly need to. One inquiring look is all it takes for Steve to slip into the chair across from her and start talking. “He’s real worried about getting caught. I get it, you know, but he’s—he’s talkin’ about ending it. Us.” Peggy sets her tea down.

“Oh,” she says, very softly. Steve nods, his throat suddenly tightening up with emotion. He leans forward, setting his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands. “Oh, _Steve_.” Steve hears Peggy stand, stepping around the table and slipping her arms around Steve, pulling her head into her chest and resting her chin on the top of his head. Steve takes a deep breath. It takes a tremendous effort not to cry.

“I don’t know what to do,” he mumbles when the feeling of impending tears has faded a bit. “I don’t—I can’t lose him, Peg.” Peggy strokes his hair gently. It’s growing out, much longer than it had been during the war, perhaps a bit longer than it should be, considering that’s he’s still in the military, but no one is about to tell _Captain fucking America_ to cut his hair. Besides, Peggy loves it, and Bucky is endlessly fascinated by it.

“I know,” Peggy murmurs, kissing the top of his head and holding him tightly. Eventually, Steve’s breaths even out, and his chest loosens, and if his face is maybe a little wet when Peggy lets go of him, she doesn’t say anything about it.

“How can you be so understanding about this?” he asks, the words slipping out before he can stop them. He’s never asked before, not once since he started this complicated _thing_ , sharing himself between her and Bucky. He’s asked if she’s okay with it, if she hates him, if she hates Bucky, but never _how_ , never whether she’s disgusted with him for it.

“I’m not,” Peggy says, and Steve’s heart jumps with fear. “I understand that I love you, and I understand that James loves you. I _know_ that you love both of us, but I don’t understand how and I never will.” Steve opens his mouth to say something, to defend himself, to beg for pity, _something_ , but Peggy rests a finger against his lips in a gentle rebuke. “I don’t need to,” she says softly. “Do you hear me, Steve? I don’t need to understand. I look at you now and you are happier than you ever were with just me, and I’m happier with you than I’ve ever been, and James is as happy as he ever is, even if he’s too damned stubborn to say it. I don’t need to understand _why_. As far as I’m concerned, this whole thing is the best idea you’ve ever had.” Steve smiles.

“Better than getting myself captured by Hydra,” he mutters. That had been a particularly harebrained scheme of his towards the end of the war, just after Bucky had lost his arm, when Steve was full of rage and impulsiveness that he didn’t know what to do with. Peggy had wasted no time in telling him when she caught him trying to sneak off on his own to do it, and looking back on it, Steve is pretty sure she saved his life by doing so.

“Certainly better than that,” Peggy agrees, smiling back. She kisses him quickly. “Now, I think you’ll find it pertinent that the rooms next door have just opened up.”

“Really?” Steve says, frowning. “Miss Jones moved out?”

“Got married, apparently,” Peggy says. “But I didn’t bring it up so we could gossip about the neighbors. I was going to suggest that James move in.” Steve is speechless.

“Move in?” he manages to repeat after a moment. “Next to us?”

“That is what I said,” Peggy says, smiling. Steve slowly breaks into a grin.

“Bucky,” he says again. “Moving in next to us.” Peggy nods. “And you’d be okay with that?”

“Do you think for one second that I’d keep quiet if I wasn’t?” Peggy asks. That’s a fair point. Peggy has never failed to call Steve out on his bullshit. It’s one of the reasons he loves her so damn much.

“That sounds…” he shakes his head. “That’s a dream come true, Peg.”

“Thank me later,” Peggy says, waving a hand dismissively and returning to her chair at the other end of the table. “Go call James.” Steve leaps to his feet, practically running for the door to the living room where the phone is. He stops halfway there, spinning around to plant a kiss on Peggy’s cheek.

“I love you,” he says quickly, turning and heading for the door once more.

“I love you, too,” Peggy calls after him, and Steve grabs the phone with an irrepressible grin.

It won’t last forever, in all likelihood. It will probably end in tears and anger and the little family Steve has built for himself will burn itself to the ground.

But God, right now, with a wedding ring on his finger and its partner on Peggy’s, with Bucky’s dogtags around his neck and his around Bucky’s, Steve feels like they’re all going to live forever.

**Author's Note:**

> a note on the portrayal of polyamory in this fic: i’m not poly, and i haven’t written anything involving poly relationships before. all relationships are messy, especially polyamorous relationships in post-war america, but if you think i horribly misportrayed something or wrote something in an offensive way, please shoot me a message so i can do better in the future :)
> 
> i'm no longer taking prompts for pride month; if you sent me one i promise i'm working on filling it. find me on tumblr @daisys-quake. thanks for reading; leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed.


End file.
